Chapter 1 – Mountain Delights

I smiled. This was it.

I pulled up and parked, looked out the windshield at the place. Typical two-story farmhouse, its vintage I guessed to be in the thirties or forties. It had white clapboard siding, a sweeping front porch. In the distance, I could see some other buildings which I assumed were the stables and several bunkhouses and small cabins. I wasn’t here for the non-profit that was run from this place, but for the man who owned it.

Speaking of… a man came out onto the porch, no doubt hearing my arrival. I pegged him at six-two, two hundred pounds, not one ounce of it was flab. His plaid shirt and jeans didn’t hide the muscled physique beneath. If tossing hay bales made a guy look like him, there needed to be a new fitness trend. At least a T-shirt that said Cowboy Strong.

Overlong dark hair curled over the collar of his plaid shirt, and I itched to run my fingers through it, hopefully when his head was between my legs and he was busy eating me out. I squirmed in my seat, my panties already damp with anticipation. It was the beard though… fuck. Thick and full, trimmed on the sides and longer on the bottom. What would that feel like brushing against my thighs? With the SUV off, the interior was getting cold quickly, but I wasn’t. Far from it. I was burning up just eye fucking him from thirty feet away.

He didn’t approach, just leaned against a post. Waited, with a rifle in his right hand. Just great.

He had no idea who I was; Lucas had said he wasn’t going to tell Cy in advance about my arrival. Since Lucas wasn’t here yet—mine was the only vehicle around—I had to wonder if this was a good idea or not.

The plan was for a threesome… if the third—Lucas—would show the fuck up.

As for Cy, he didn’t look thrilled to have company. That would change; at least I hoped. He was going to get lucky, and hopefully fuck my brains out. He just didn’t know it yet.

Taking a deep breath, I climbed from my SUV, careful of my left knee, and slammed the door shut behind me.

“You can hop right on up in that car of yours and head out,” Cy called. His voice was deep, the timbre smooth like whiskey, and full of threat.

Stiffening my resolve, and my shoulders, I took a step toward him. Only one because I wasn’t completely stupid since he was armed and all. I didn’t think he’d shoot me…

“I’m here to—”

He held up his free hand to stop me. “I know why you’re here. Your kind have been kicking up dust on my drive the past week to get a story. They must be getting desperate if they send the hot chick.”

Oh. Shit. He thought I was a reporter trying to get a scoop on the whole Dennis Seaborn fiasco. I knew all about it. Who hadn’t, in Cutthroat? The guy had turned himself in for murdering Erin Mills, Lucas’s sister. He’d been questioned six ways to Sunday and his story had held. Until a time-stamped traffic camera photo of Erin alive after when he’d said he’d killed her blew it all to hell. Now, he was out of jail—they couldn’t keep him for a crime he didn’t commit—and everyone in western Montana wondered why he’d stepped forward if he hadn’t done it. Who would do something like that? Take the blame for a murder? A murder.

Dennis Seaborn was Cy’s father. Estranged, from what Lucas had told me. Lucas and I had met two weeks before his sister had been killed, and I was all too aware of how it affected him. I knew all about his friendship with Cy, their working relationship. Sure, Lucas hated Dennis Seaborn for impeding his sister’s case, but he didn’t blame Cy.

Perhaps he was the only one who felt that way based on the way he was acting.

I looked to Cy, his gaze filled with hatred and anger. Not what I wanted to see there. Lust, desire and need would have been better. From the pictures of Dennis, he and Cy looked a lot alike. They had the same dark hair—although Dennis’ was more gray than black now—and eyes. Blood was blood and with them, it showed. And reporters were always out for blood.

“There’s been some mistake,” I said, holding up my hands, walking closer. We all had problems, and I wanted to forget mine between two hard-bodied cowboys. But I froze when he lifted the gun a bit. “Whoa, you don’t need to shoot me.”

“Then do as I say.” The rifle wasn’t pointed at me, although I had no idea if the safety was on or how good a shot he was.

“I’m not a reporter.”

“Realtor?”

Were people expecting him to sell his ranch and get the hell out of Dodge because of what his father had done? From what I knew, the ranch was huge, extending not only across the prairie I could see, but up into the mountains beyond. Lucas ran his non-profit from the property, he and Cy organizing and taking veterans with PTSD on backcountry trips.

“Definitely not.”

“What are you then?”

I glanced down at my worn leather boots, then lifted my gaze to meet his, took another few steps toward him. He didn’t raise his weapon, so I felt pretty confident he wasn’t going to shoot a woman.

“I’m a professional skier. Maybe.” I gave a negligent shrug and murmured the last, more for me than for him. “Look, I’m—”

“Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want any.” Clearly, he hadn’t listened to a word I said. “Get the hell off my land.” He turned on his heel to head back inside.

“Wait!” I called. This was sooo not going as I’d imagined. I’d get out of the SUV, smile at him, bat my eyelashes and tell him his friend Lucas Mills and I were together—and fucking—and we wanted to pull him in on a little fun. A lot of fun.

One of my fantasies was two dicks. A threesome with a whole bunch of orgasms to go around. And Lucas had said that Cy was pretty dominant in the bedroom, which was exactly what I’d been hoping for. Lucas was total alpha male, but he didn’t push me, and I needed to be pushed. I wasn’t on the slopes and missed that, god, focus I got with that kind of intensity.

I didn’t do anything halfway. I didn’t win ski championships by lacking confidence. Not in my career and not in my sex life. I knew what I wanted and went for it. And I wanted Lucas… and Cy.

Lucas and I hadn’t talked long term. We’d been having fun. With his PTSD, which had woken him up from a nightmare more than once, it seemed he hadn’t wanted to commit. Or at least say the words. We’d both been content with just fun. But we had agreed something had been missing. And that something was a someone.

But Cy didn’t want to hear it. Lucas should be here to back me up—he was as game to double team me—and I’d get a double shot of hot cowboy. Okay, so Lucas wasn’t here yet. I looked over my shoulder down the drive. Yeah, no Lucas. But I could still charm the pants off Cy in the meantime, couldn’t I?

Well… I had on a sexy red panty and bra set, but unless he had x-ray vision, he wouldn’t know since I was practically covered head to toe in jeans, a black turtleneck and a light puffy jacket. I barely had any skin showing, let alone cleavage or midriff. October in Montana wasn’t the time to do a strip tease outside. With a strong wind coming down off the mountains, it had to be in the low forties, even with the sun shining. It wasn’t just the hottie in front of me that had my nipples hard.

“Lucas sent me,” I called, hoping that would cool his jets.

That had him turning back. From this distance, I could see his eyes were as dark as his hair. Piercing. Penetrating. As for penetrating, I looked him over, took in the thick outline of his dick in his well-worn jeans. That was what I wanted. He could eye fuck me, but a dick fuck would be a whole lot better.

“Why the hell would he do that?”

I swallowed. Hard. This was what I wanted. Two men to make me forget, to make me happy. I’d shared the fantasy with Lucas, and he was more than willing to fulfill it. If he’d just show the hell up. It was literally time to put up or shut up. I could go down a steep, snowy mountain on two pieces of elastomer ninety-five millimeters wide at over eighty miles an hour without flinching. Telling Cyrus Seaborn I wanted to take his dick for a ride shouldn’t be all that hard.

“So you’ll fuck me.”

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